Shrill whistles, clattering tracks, rhythmic rolling cars … imagine the train depot as it used to be.
I have wonderful memories of feeling the approaching train before hearing the whistle or seeing the blinding light.
I have seen the mail bag tossed and caught, have seen the stationmaster extend notes to the engineer, watched as a working man’s arm reached from the window, catching the note, but never the hook.
As a child, I tried to push the heavy baggage trolleys on their iron wheels across uneven planks. I’ve ridden in steam trains and diesel trains, looked from the uppermost windows of a caboose, and I have stood probably too near the track as freight trains thundered past, feeling a surge of terror and excitement and longing to travel as fast, as far into the unknown.